


An Angst Writer, A Fluff Writer, and A Comedic Writer Read the Same Prompt

by Gardanana, vionvend, ZenlessZen



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game), Puyo Puyo
Genre: Abuse, Evil Mother, M/M, Overprotective Brother, Puyo in chapter 3, Sexy Times, Zen is a good bf, image, protec, saeran is a kinky little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gardanana/pseuds/Gardanana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vionvend/pseuds/vionvend, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenlessZen/pseuds/ZenlessZen
Summary: You showed up at my door, unannounced, wearing a turtleneck in the middle of July and I know you hate the heat so something must be terribly wrong, why do you look like you're about to cry.





	1. Chapter 1

Zen was not expecting someone this late at night. He was, in fact, just about to finish his last can of beer and turn in when suddenly there was a quiet knock on his door. It was so quiet that Zen doubted if he had heard correctly, until the person knocked again, just as quietly as before. Saeran was standing on his doorstep wearing a black turtleneck. His eyes were downcast. The warm night air flooded into his cramped apartment, causing Zen to frown. Saeran hated the heat, so why the hell was he wearing a black turtleneck in the middle of July? Zen stepped aside to let him in. 

“Saeran. What happened.” Zen asked, shutting the door behind him. “Where's Saeyoung?” The boy never went anywhere without his twin. They were practically attached at the hip. Saeran's eyes darted around the room before landing on the half finished beer can on the table.

“Are you drunk too?” He asked. His voice was hesitant.

Zen shook his head. “No. I'm not drunk. Sure, I had a beer, but I'm not drunk.” Saeran finally looked at him as if to discern whether he was telling the truth or not. “I'll go put it away if it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“Please.” Zen swallowed. Saeran barely ever said please. This was concerning. The actor grabbed the can and shoved it in the fridge. When he returned, Saeran had seated himself on the couch, nervously fiddling with his sleeves. It was then that Zen noticed the bruise blooming right above the collar. 

“Are you hurt?” Zen asked. His voice hadn't been particularly loud, but Saeran flinched. 

“It’s nothing. It’ll heal soon.” 

“Who did this to you.” Zen knew that he probably shouldn’t be too demanding, but he felt angry. Saeran flinched again.

“It doesn’t matter. You have makeup, right?” Saeran had finally looked up. His eyes were pleading with Zen, not to press further. Zen sighed.

“Yes. Do you want me to cover them up for you?” Zen asked softly. Saeran nodded. “Are you wearing something underneath that?” Saeran nodded again. “Okay. Then take off your turtleneck and let me get my concealer.” Zen went into the bathroom and grabbed the tin. When he returned, Saeran was shifting uncomfortably on the couch, wearing only a tank top. Zen sat down on the coffee table across from him and picked up his brush. As he methodically applied the concealer over the various bruises on the younger boy’s neck, it suddenly hit him.

“This was your mother’s fault, isn’t it.” At the mention of his mother, Saeran flinched, confirming Zen’s theory. Zen scowled. “I’ll kill her.” He muttered. “Why didn’t you tell Saeyoung?”

“He already worries about me too much. I don’t want to be a burden.” Zen didn’t quite know what to say to that. He finished hiding the marks and set the concealer and brush aside. “Thank you.” Saeran whispered quietly. The redhead got up from the couch and headed towards the front door.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Zen asked, standing up as well. He couldn’t just let Saeran go back there. It was dangerous.

“Back. I have to. She’ll hurt me even more if I don’t.”

“Wait. Stay here.” Zen blurted out before his head could catch up with his mouth. Well, he was earning enough as an actor, and his popularity was growing. He could support Saeran, if he didn’t want to burden his brother. 

“What? Zen, I can’t-” 

Zen cut him off. “I insist. I promise I won’t let her hurt you ever again.” Saeran stared at him conflicted. His mouth was moving like he wanted to speak but no words came out. 

“Are… Are you sure I won’t be a burden?” Saeran whispered, as if speaking any louder would make Zen retract his words.

Zen shook his head. “You go to public school, right? Then you can keep going since it’s funded by taxes. I have enough money to buy some proper food. I don’t have high quality things and this place is sort of cramped and-”

“I’ll stay.” Saeran’s eyes were shining. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You don’t have to.” Zen said firmly. Saeran sat back down on the couch and Zen sat next to him. He heard the younger boy sniffle. “Are you crying?”

“No.” His response was blunt, despite him wiping his eyes. “This place is so damn dusty, how do you live here?” Zen laughed as Saeran scowled up at him. “What’s so funny, selfie freak.” 

“Hey, my beauty requires that I take pictures.” Zen grinned. Saeran rolled his eyes. 

“Great. I'm stuck with a narcissist.” Despite his sarcastic words, he had a small smile on his face. They settled down to watch a movie together, to help take Saeran's mind off of things. Not long after it started, Saeran had fallen asleep on Zen’s shoulder. He looked peaceful in his sleep. Careful not to wake him up, Zen draped Saeran's turtleneck over the sleeping boy. 

“I promise to keep you safe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't even know

Saeyoung didn’t like not knowing. Not knowing if Jaehee and MC were dating yet, not knowing if Yoosung liked him back, not knowing where the hell his brother was. He paced in circles around the room, constantly checking his phone for any texts, any calls, anything that would tell him Saeran was coming home, or at the very least, safe. He had said he was heading out the night before, refusing to tell Seven where he was headed but promising he’d be back soon, and Seven had expected him to be back in a couple hours.

But a couple hours had passed, and Saeran was nowhere to be seen. He had called Yoosung multiple times, listening to his placating assurances that “It hasn’t been too long, he’ll be fine. Besides, he knows how to protect himself.”

Seven had considered going out himself and trying to find Saeran, hoping he was somewhere nearby in the city, but he decided against it in case Saeran came home to find no one there. He continued pacing.

An automated voice rang out throughout the house.

“State your intentions.”

“To get to my bed and sleep already. Now let me in, you shitty door.”

“You think I’ll just let you in? Try again.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Sorry, as a door, I lack those anatomical capabilities. However, feel free to do so yourself, Mr. Saeran Choi!”

“Goddammit, you know who I am, so just let me in!”

Seven nearly tripped, rushing to deactivate his door and let Saeran in. He held the door open as his brother stumbled over the threshold, scowling. Seven immediately wrapped him in a hug, against Saeran’s protests.

“You said you’d be back soon! Where the hell were you?!”

In response, Saeran’s scowl deepened, and he pulled the scarf around his neck tighter.

“And it’s mid-July, why do you have a scarf on?!”

Seven moved to pull off the scarf, but Saeran darted out of reach, protectively covering it with his hands. Upon closer inspection, Seven could see a bruise starting to form on the side of his brother’s neck, and he rushed towards him, grabbing his arms and holding him in place.

“Where did you get those bruises from?!” Saeran tried to free himself from Seven’s grasp to no avail. When that failed, he turned away from his brother, avoiding the question and inadvertently exposing yet another bruise.

Seven released one of Saeran’s arms in favor of grabbing at the scarf. Saeran tried to use the opportunity to twist away, but his twin was faster. Seven pulled off the scarf and immediately dropped it, staring at the many bruises that littered his brother’s neck. Saeran seemed to wither under Seven’s stare, and before he knew it tears started to well up in his eyes.

“What happened to you?! Did you get attacked? A-are you crying?!”

“I am not crying! I’m just angry!”

Seven knew his brother was lying. When he spoke again, his voice was cold. “Who did this to you?”

Saeran wiped at his eyes before retorting sarcastically. “And what are you going to do, kill them for touching your ickle baby brother?”

“Yes.”

“Well too bad! What if I asked them to do it? Begged them not to stop until I was a bruised mess, screaming their name? Asking for more, asking them to give me everything they had as I was reduced to a whimpering mess being pounded into their bedsheets?”

Seven stared in shock.

“What would you do then? Would you kill your precious friend? Maybe it was my choice to ‘awaken the beast inside’, maybe I wanted this to happen!”

Seven couldn’t help but feel a bit like he had pried too much, learned a bit more than he needed to know. He watched silently as Saeran picked up his scarf and stalked away, doubtless heading to his bedroom.

Seven stood in silence for a bit longer before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

“Hey Ms.Vanderwood, it’s your favorite coworker, Seven! Would you mind if I borrowed your taser for a bit?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearing a knock on the door, Zen rushed to open it. "Oh, Seven, come i-"
> 
> He dropped to the floor, shrieking. "What the fuck?!"
> 
> Seven stood over him, glaring. "Yeah, what the fuck did you do to my brother?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol wrong fandom but here I am

Ringo was shocked at the sight when she opened her front door.

It was Amitie. Her eyes puffy and red, and her nose was dripping; she must have been crying, Ringo thought. But strangest of all, she was wearing a turtleneck hoodie in the middle of summer. Usually she wore her sleeveless vest all year long, so the sight of her in anything with sleeves in the first place was unusual.

“What’s wrong, Amitie?” she asked in a soft voice, scared of what could possibly have brought this change.

“I-, I-” she took a moment to sniff, “I- ACHOO!” she sneezed into one of her long sleeves. “I think I forgot-” she rubbed her eyes, “-my allergy medicine at your house yesterday during the-” another sneeze, “-the sleepover.”

“Aah...” so that’s what it was. She let a sigh of relief and mild frustration that she thought it could be anything worse than that.

Ringo did remember finding a bottle somewhere in the living room… she had assumed it was one of her many bottles of chemicals from the science club. She let Amitie in and ran to go find the bottle.

By the time she came back, Amitie managed to look worse than when she first came. “I’m here~” Ringo called to the girl who sat with a pile of used tissues.

“Thank you- ACHOO! ...Ringo.” she grasped for the pill bottle. 

Ringo brought her a glass of water, and watched as she downed the medicine. “Feeling better now?”

“Well not yet. It’s going to take- ACHOO! -take a while to take effect.” Amitie pointed out. She looked thoughtful. “Hey, how about a- sniiiff -a Puyo Puyo battle?”

“WHAAT!? You’re energetic enough to do that?” Ringo held her signature shocked pose.

“Yeah~ It’ll help! I challenge you to a Puyo -ACHOO! -Puyo Puyo Battle!”

“I’m pretty sure this won’t-”

*Cue match*

 


End file.
